


Borrowed and Returned

by Edollhouse



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Infidelity, M/M, father-in-law/daughter-in-law
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-07
Updated: 2015-04-21
Packaged: 2018-03-16 16:10:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3494669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Edollhouse/pseuds/Edollhouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To borrow – to take and use something belonging to someone else with the intention of returning it. Nowhere in the definition of the word does it say that you need that someone’s permission.<br/>Takes place after Lagertha and Athelstan leaves Ecbert’s villa at the end of the Wanderer and Judith has to deal with her father-in-law’s interrogation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Permission

“And would you say that about yourself, father-in-law?” she asks because she’ll be damned if she lets him treat her as though she is nothing but just a silly girl he could frighten with a dark voice and words of danger, and not a great princess of the north. Nevertheless, it takes much effort to remain still when he leans in, searching her face for answers to questions he is yet to ask her. She watches him from the corner of her eye, but avoids his gaze by diverting hers to the ground. That she won’t let him frighten her does not mean he has no effect on her.

He doesn’t answer, just makes that short smile and walks back into the castle without another word. After one last lingering look to where she’s seen Athelstan disappear she looks over her shoulder and watches the King walk away.

She knows she shouldn’t have asked him that. She should have let it be and then when they were alone assured him that of course she would never do anything improper, never do anything he would not approve of. Now he will be annoyed with her, angry even, and she knows he will want to punish her.

After dinner she quickly excuses herself and goes to hide with her child and one of the nurses in the little one’s own chambers. She caresses the chubby cheeks, tickles the small feet and hums songs and nursery rhymes she half remembers from her childhood. For a while she is happy and smiling and can forget all the troubles she has outside this room. 

Of course he finds her. The master knows every corner of his castle and as he tells her with a smile when he walks into the room, where else would one find a new mother if not with her child. He watches the sweet domestic scene for a while, a happy content smile playing on his lips, but then he’s had enough.

“Let Anna take over” he demands with a tone that disguises it as a suggestion. Judith lingers by her sweet baby, kisses the soft hair and reluctantly hands over her most cherished treasure to the old woman before she walks out the door her father-in-law is holding up for her. 

She walks down the halls and he follows her and she wonders where they are going. Finally they seem to have gone to the place he had in mind and he places a hand on her hip to make her stop while he murmurs a suggestion that they might want to have a swim in the bathhouse.

Judith remembers when her father was there and the men had gone to the King’s Roman bathhouse. Her father later talked of it as a brilliant though a bit strange thing, perfect for men to socialize and negotiate. King Aelle has always considered the nude to be one of man’s most natural states (only second to being on horseback). She wonders what her father would say if he knew that the King does not only invite men into the bath, but sometimes indulge in the old Roman tradition of mixing genders. Since her coming to Wessex she has had many lectures on the Roman ways of life.

They reach the baths and, as always when it’s just the two of them, there are no servants to assist them. He helps her undress, as attentive and respectful as he was with Lagertha and while she steps into the bath he hastens to undress and follow her. They swim around for a while and then he gestures for her to come to the edge. Soundlessly he offers her wine, hands her a cup and then pours one for himself. 

“He is not for you” he says, sounding surprisingly relaxed and takes a mouthful of the wine “and more important, you are not for him”

She holds the cup steady with both hands as she drinks while trying to come up with a good answer. He does not sound impossible or angry, quite the contrary, he sounds like he wants to her to understand, wants her to agree. She can use that “I assure you, father-in-law, I did not mean . . .”

“Oh, don’t bother!” he abruptly cuts her off, but then softens at her surprised shudder, gets rid of his cup and swims over to her. His eyes drink in the pretty girl, this noble princess, the in thought already adulteress. He crowds her to the edge, takes the cup from her hands and then reaches for her body, but she bats his hand away. Slowly he moves the hand away from her to rest on the edge, still crowding her, and he looks down into the water “Do you find me too dangerous tonight?”

She lowers her head to hide how she smirks at his pretended anxiety, wondering if anyone has ever bought his act of being shy and insecure “Are you asking me if I tonight find you too complicated . . . Too fascinating?” she sneaks a peak to see if his ego has been stroked enough for her to continue. Judging by his growing grin she dares say it has and she reaches for his hand, puts it to her breast and looks up at him with a soft smile “I will always find you too dangerous” she says, places a hand on the back of his neck and pulls him in to kiss him

He knows he shouldn’t do this. This is his son’s wife, but he has found it the best way to really connect with another person, to really have them under your control and Judith has been a challenge from day one. If his son were here he would never act like this, but when Aethelwulf is away he finds it his duty, his undeniably pleasurable duty, to keep her close and keep her in line.

From the very first time, Judith has had to admit that she loves making love in water. She feels lighter and the man can lift her higher, it is less sweaty and she does not feel as messy afterwards and the water constantly reminds her that this is happening outside the bedchamber which always gives her the thrill of tasting the forbidden. Time and again she has contemplated suggesting it to Aethelwulf, but she’s afraid it would raise too much suspicion of where she has gotten the idea.

If rushing, the King is not a very attentive lover, but Judith has discovered that if she encourages him to take his time he becomes more considerate, more focused on her and she feels so much pleasure, even if it is a pleasure she has to work for. In a way she loves him and believes that he loves her. He is family and she likes him, admires him, and he has been taking very good care of her

Afterwards he holds her in his embrace, trying to console her and find solace himself, for the betrayal they’ve committed and for that the moment of pleasure is over. She hugs him back, receiving and giving back comfort, letting her fingers go through his wet hair. 

“Are we all just for you?” she asks later when they are both swathed in sheets and he is sitting on the edge with her in his lap, their feet playing in the water. Her head is pressed to his chest and she uses that pseudo-meek tone that he in the beginning mistook for genuine timidity

“As I am for all of you” he answers with a playful smile and places a kiss on her right temple. “Now promise me you will get him out of your head. You know it will only get you both in trouble, you are married and he’s a monk”

“And yet you’ve had both of us” he makes the same smile he did at dinner when she asked Athelstan to tell her about the pagans, a smile that tells her that he will indulge her ways for now, but she shouldn’t believe for a second that he cannot see right through her. Truth be told, she does not know exactly what has been going on between the King and the monk, but she has seen the desires in his eyes and knows the King would want to if he hasn’t already, and if he has then he still wants him.

He lets a hand caress her face, pulling away strings of wet hair “Promise me” he repeats, more demanding this time, but not in full strength. Their latest exercise has tired him out. Not quite ready yet, she does her best not to look him in the eye. 

“I don’t think you would believe me even if I promised you” she mumbles softly, but when she looks up and her gaze meets his it is strong and filled with confidence. She lets her fingers trace his jaw, the soft beard and he lets her while waiting for her to continue, like a wild animal letting you pet them while watching your every move. 

“I think you would still look to three possible fathers for my next child” she leans forward, places her arms around his neck and whispers in his ear “Wouldn’t that please you? The idea that such a child would be yours in everything, your child, your grandchild . . . your Athelstan’s child” she waits for a response, but she cannot even hear him breathe. Gently, she pushes him back to a lie on the wet floor, her hand to his chest and she leans over him and continues her whisper, knowing she has victory by her fingertips “Let me have him, father-in-law, let me borrow him for just a little while”


	2. Improper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> following the events of Warrior's Fate

He walks into the room where she is sitting fixing her hair before dinner. When she first came to Wessex he was surprised to find how much of her clothes and hair that she managed on her own without the help of servants. In the beginning it worried him that she did not act her part as future queen, but soon realized she put her ladies in waiting to good use, reading and singing and sewing. It also didn’t take him long to notice that her independence allows that one can often find her alone, as he has done now.

“Do you still think it was a good idea to insist that we would stay for the sacrifice?”

His reproaching tone surprises her. She knows that he is interested in all things pagan and saw the way he looked at Lagertha when the blood was spilt all over her white dress, hypnotized, fascinated beyond words and if not scared than at least a bit worried. Why would he disapprove? But then, the power of the ceremony overwhelmed them all and her father-in-law does not like things he cannot handle.

“It was very interesting to see. Why, do you wish I had not insisted?” she uses her most neutral tone, trying to figure out what he is thinking so that she can decide how to deal with him.

“No, not at all” he answers with a shrug as if he really could not care one way or the other “You looked a bit pale, that’s all, and I was not close enough to help you”

She forces herself to continue fixing her hair, trying to appear relaxed “You were captivated by what was taking place before us, so was I, though I admit that all that blood made me a bit . . . How did the others take it?” she tries to steer the discussion as well as her thoughts away from what she did and did not do during the sacrifice. Besides, she wants to know what the lords thought, as princess she ought to know.

“They are suspicious” he admits, though not wanting to tell her all about the quarrels he’s had with the lords. “But they trust me, as long as I can show that I always do what’s best for Wessex, in the long run anyway”

“They trusted you with Mercia and Princess Kwenthrith. Surely they will trust you to act the same with Earl Ingstad”

He smirks at her pretended innocence and insinuations “Yes, I dare say it would worry them greatly if I created this alliance the same way I did the one with your father” though he cannot help but thinking that they should know by now that he will never remarry

She puts away her brush and turns in her chair to look at him and can’t help but thinking that he is wrong. Wessex’s alliance with Northumbria was made on the basis of the woman in the other party. Sure, the King negotiated with her father, as he did with Earl Ragnar and as she imagines he will with Princess Kwenthrith’s brother, but the King of Wessex has always gone through the women. She wonders if it is an advice he got from Emperor Charlemagne.

She hates the thought of being a bargaining chip and when she answers her tone is bitter “I am sure you will succeed, father-in-law, as you do in everything else”

Mistaking her bitterness for scepticism, his gaze darkens. He does not appreciate being mocked.

“Thank you, dear. Speaking of succeeding, did you . . . borrow him, as you so eloquently put it?” it is asked with astonishing ease, as if he wasn’t asking her if she has betrayed her husband with a pagan monk.

“Not yet” she answers, trying to appear relaxed and match his tone, but the lightness in her voice sounds so forced she cringes. The King lets out a laugh and walks over to her.

“No? Not even after you both ran out of the baths half-naked? And I who thought I had inspired you both” he places a kiss on the top of her head as he passes her to walk over to the crib, and picks up his grandchild whose big eyes are studying him. Every time he sees them he can’t help but think of Aethelwulf’s eyes and they make him travel back in time and make him want to produce incomprehensible gurgling sounds so undignified no one outside that room should ever hear them. 

“Probably senseless of me, if something would have happened between you there in the bath, I would have been bound to interfere” his smiles down at the child he is rocking in his arms and she doubts he would’ve interfered even if something had happened “Or I could have blamed the wine, yes, couldn’t I? The wine and the atmosphere and my distracting company and say I did not notice” 

He says it with a childish voice, as if he is speaking to the baby he’s cradling and not ruthlessly teasing her for her passivity. Despite the best of opportunities, the two young people did not take it and once Aethelwulf is home, which he will be soon, it is doubtful such an opportunity would present itself again. 

“Remember this, little one, to get what you want, to succeed, you need the will to make it happen. Even if it seems impossible, you can never doubt yourself”

Suddenly she realizes what he is doing there. Maybe he came by to check on her, maybe he wants to know if she has been unfaithful, if she is having an affair with Athelstan, but foremost he has come to brag. The old king, so used to get what he wants it often bores him to no end, has in this shieldmaiden found a real challenge and he prides himself thinking that he is not far from having her.

“It was very improper what you did, father-in-law” she sounds most affronted, honestly so, and he looks up from the small child’s gurgling smile with an equally honestly confused face. His daughter-in-law has gotten to know him so well by now it is rare that they can genuinely surprise each other. 

Caught a bit off guard he tries to laugh it off “Don’t be silly, you and Athelstan were there” she shakes her head and interrupts him

“You seem to be under the impression that nothing wrong can happen between you and her as long as I and Athelstan are near, but that is not so if our presence does not inhibit you. You are never alone with her, and yet you . . . The things you said by the plough and . . . By God! You made us all undress and get into the bath. All that wine, and then you . . .”

Tears are rolling down her cheeks because all she said to Athelstan is true. She is tired, she does not want to be a bad wife, or mother, or Christian, and yet she is so tired of fighting the temptation. That the King seems to deliberately bait her into acting the adulteress does not help her one bit. Yes, she might have asked him to, but he is her father-in-law, her king, he is supposed to protect her and guide her, not encourage her to sin, not take her to Lagertha’s farm and let her stand so close to her temptation she can feel his warmth and hold his hand.

As gently and quickly as he can, he puts the baby back into the crib and walks over to her. He takes her hand and urges her to get up so that they can walk over and sit down on the bed. His gentle fingers wipe away her tears and then he leans in to kiss her. It is not playful as with Lagertha in the bath, it is not even that sexual, but comforting, intimate, and allows her to fool herself into thinking that they are closer than they really are.

“And then I made you bathe naked with two men, none of them your husband, and a pagan woman who will soon become my mistress. That is what distresses you, is it not? Not me, but you, your own behaviour, and yet what you are telling me is that you were tempted, yet nothing happened” 

There is no accusation in his tone and it helps her believe that perhaps it is not as bad as she has feared. As Athelstan said, as her father-in-law is saying, nothing happened. She lies down and places her head in his lap and let him stroke her hair. The warmth makes her feel secure, protected, and that she does not see his eyes helps her confess. “I wanted . . . I wanted to kiss him, more, I wanted to-to have him, there, in front of you and her, I did not care . . . Did you make love to her after we left?”

“Would that make you jealous?” she wonders if he means at Lagertha for being with him or at them both for being able to give in to their desires. He lets out a chuckle and leans forward to talk closer to her ear. “Dear Judith, sweet strong Judith, just hold out for little longer and then Aethelwulf will be back”

“And then what?” she asks him for assurance, wants him to promise her that her temptation will then vanish, but her question stills his hand and she turns in his lap to look up into his warning eyes. She likes his warning eyes, there are far more comforting and less threatening than his soft ones.

“You know I cannot condone improper behaviour. We all want things we cannot have, that we should not want, but we must try to resist, cannot give up, no matter how hard we find the challenge” 

She sits up and studies him closely. It is so obvious that he is talking about himself and not her. Of course he cannot condone her behaviour, because condoning it would be condoning his own. She almost feels sorry for him, knowing the pain he must be going through knowing Lagertha will never be his wife.

Yet she cannot help but hearing his words about challenges and not giving up and apply them in a completely different way. What she feels when she’s in Athelstan’s presence, when she sees the way he looks back at her, she knows that what they could have together is worth every challenge, their love is worth it. Surely the King, who clearly harbours similar feelings, can understand her, even if he tells her he cannot condone improper behaviour. She is not sure what counts as proper behaviour anymore. After all, how could love ever be improper?


	3. Promised Returns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place during episode 3x04 "Scarred". Judith and Ecbert have to plan for the return of the warriors

She has been in the chapel for almost an hour in front of the cross when she hears footstep behind her. The person stops, but she ignores them and continues her prayers. The footsteps continue, slow but steady and soon there is a hand on her shoulder.

It is not Athelstan’s soft gentle touch, but firmer and with her husband away there is only one other person who would dare such an intimate gesture. Her suspicion is soon confirmed when she hears the person’s voice.

“Pray for guidance, pray for piety” suddenly there’s a hand on her other shoulder and her father-in-law has her in a firm grip “And pray for obedience” he kisses her hair and kneels beside her

“And what do you pray for, father-in-law?” her eyes are still locked on the cross in front of them.

“The same” she looks up at him to see if he speaks the truth and he nods “Your obedience, your piety and for your guidance, your guidance to help me help you” he directs his eyes to the cross “They tell me you spend more time here than with your child, and then I dare not think of how much time you spend with him.”

“Are you jealous?” he always teases her about jealousy and it feels good to be able to throw it back in his face

He keeps his eyes on the cross because he is afraid of what he would betray if he looked right at her. The truth is he is jealous. After months of grief, he has for years and years enjoyed the freedom of being a widower, finding each amorous alliance a duty he would never seal with marriage. However, the last weeks with Lagertha and having Judith as pseudo queen has awoken something in him, something he thought he would never find with a woman. He is jealous and possessive and has grown fonder of her than he is willing to admit.

He is not jealous of Aethelwulf, no, Aethelwulf is his son, which makes her his daughter-in-law, the reason that she is his in any way. It is her and Athelstan he is jealous of and frankly he cannot tell who the bigger cause for the feeling is. He knows the feelings can be considered unfounded, does he not have them all, Judith, Athelstan, Lagertha? He does, but as the old possessive brute that he sometimes catches himself to be, he is jealous because they do not belong to him alone, but just as much to others.

“You will not be able to spend as much time here once our warriors are back” she doesn’t answer, doesn’t even look at him and he sighs. “Now when victory is evident, I have sent word to your father that he is welcome to celebrate here with us” 

King Aelle, another man who can claim her in the name of daughter and who he has allowed to call his own son for son-in-law. He both likes and dislikes the man and thanks God Aethelwulf has not grown fonder of the great warrior king of the North. 

Her first reaction is happiness. She hasn’t seen her father in a long while and she has missed him, but suddenly she grows wary, wondering if he somehow will be able to tell that she has more lovers than just her husband.

“I am sure my father will rejoice over the news. Can we . . . I would prefer it if we only invited him, and not my mother or brother”

The King shows mercy and does not question why she would not want to invite her mother and younger brother to celebrate a victory with the vicious Northmen and introduce them to the pagan monk who she has her illicit affair with.

“I assumed as much, and I have informed your father that the celebration will be no place for women and children, Wessex’s own excepted of course” he says and when he looks at her his eyes are genuinely kind and for all her misfortune, she cannot help but smile. Her small smile is like a sun, enough to lit up the world and he catches himself wanting to make her smile more often. So why is his immediate reaction to destroy it?

“I am sure he will want to know all about how you are faring here with us” 

-

The night before the warriors' return she’s tripping the hallways until she reaches his room. She doesn’t bother to knock, but makes sure that no one sees her as she opens the door just enough to slide through. The King is sleeping, Lagertha is nowhere to be seen and she walks up to him and kneels before his sleeping face. He looks older when he sleeps, gentler, harmless, and she reaches out a hand, but before the hand touches him he speaks her name.

“Judith” he mumbles and sits up “What ails you?” she hesitates, throwing looks at the door and he raises his blanket to let her slip in next to him and holds her tight, pressing her to his chest 

“Do you love me?” when she asks she uses her most serious tone, but she does not look back at him.

He smiles at her silly question and kisses her bare shoulder “With all my heart, as you love your king, I am sure” he wonders what has possessed her to come to him in the middle of the night to assure herself of his love, a love she should know by now is not the good kind

“What about her?” she asks almost accusing and for a moment he wonders who she is referring to, but finds that her answer wouldn’t change his.

“I’m keeping her close . . . and I like her” he doesn’t say that Lagertha does not like him, or she might like him enough, but she has recognized what sort of man he really is and knows they have no future. They have kept each other close to strengthen their alliance and because they fascinate one another. If she is referring to Kwenthrith, his answer remains the same. He likes the woman just as much as he worries about her.

“I want you to make love to me” her request entices him as always when she is the initiator, but he remembers their previous conversations and he grows suspicious and as he helps her off with her clothes he cannot help but ask what he already knows must be true.

“So you finally managed to borrow him then?” her avoiding his gaze is all the confirmation he needs and for a moment he can’t believe the nerve. To borrow another man’s wife is one thing, for a lowly monk to borrow a Princess, that’s against all order.

She undresses him swiftly and then pulls him over her, knowing he likes to start on top. He starts stroking her breasts and encourages her to answer.

“Yes, yes, I have given myself to him, he has given himself to me, in the library, we . . .” at that he places his lips to hers and kisses her deeply. He does not want to hear how the two have defiled his treasure room. It is bad enough that it has happened. 

They speak no more after that and during the night they take their time, knowing tomorrow he will have to give back these meetings with her to his son. He doubt she and Athelstan will do the same, but he hopes that his son will at least the first night back find a good and loving wife on his return. 

Afterwards he holds her as he always does. It is important that she feels safe with him, that she realizes that what they do has nothing to do with anything else, will not have any consequences of any kind. She has almost dozed off when his voice makes her open her eyes.

“I do love you, Judith. You are very dear to me and that is why I have to tell you that . . . You do know we will lose him when Ragnar Lothbrok returns?” she sits up and looks down at him with a pleading look, but he shakes his head “If there was anything I could do to stop him, I would do it and of course I will talk to him, but I fear it won’t be enough. He hasn’t spoken to you?”

“No . . . no, he has not” she looks at her father-in-law, knowing that what he says is true, but also that he might just as well be saying it just to hurt her. She hardens her gaze and clears her throat “I do not think he will leave. We are too dear to him”

She leans down and kisses his cheek before saying goodnight and leaves the room. As she has her back to him, she does not see the small smile playing on the King’s lips. If Athelstan has not said goodbye, then Ecbert knows he has been avoiding a confrontation. That Athelstan chose Ragnar over him and left without a word last time is one thing, but a young woman like Judith confronting him is another thing entirely. The King is convinced that if anyone can make their young monk stay it is her.


	4. Payment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place during The Usurper, Judith and Ecbert deal with what her pregnancy will mean for all of them

When Athelstan leaves with the Northmen and Aethelwulf is back with his wife, Ecbert turns from everything that has to do with the heart and sexual desires and focus solely on politics. There is much to be done and hard work stops unwelcomed thoughts and anger. He will see Athelstan again, he is sure of it, so there is no reason to be mad at him for leaving or at Judith for not managing to make him stay. Still he avoids her.

Nothing strange with that, the servants think it is only natural that the King spends much less time now with the Princess when her husband is back. Besides, it has always been their rule that nothing can happen between them other than when Aethelwulf is away. It has much more to do with guilt than fear of getting caught and this way they can both pretend that it doesn’t count. 

They barely see each other because Judith avoids him as much as he avoids her. She avoids everyone, staying in her rooms as much as possible and thinks of the love she has lost and the big empty hole he has left inside her.

Whenever she is forced to be in the same room as the King she feels ill. She cannot help but wonder if Athelstan noticed something between them and that’s the reason he decided to leave. Aethelwulf is so far from her mind he might as well not exist. He leaves her alone and divides his time between his princely duties and their son. She is grateful that he is such a good father now when she does not have the strength to be a good mother. Each time she looks at her child she cannot help but thinking that it is wrong, that the child should have been hers and Athelstan’s.

When she realizes she is expecting she knows she should feel something, happiness, fear, something, but how can she be happy when Athelstan is not there to share it with her and how can she feel fear when nothing matters anymore? For days she tries to just ignore it, insists on having all her meals in her rooms and refuses to see anyone. During these days she feels herself getting weaker and weaker and it is only the thought of the baby and the hope of maybe one day see Athelstan again that make eat and drink enough to keep her going. Sometimes she prays, but she avoids confession and sometimes she occupies herself with religious embroidery. 

Finally she has worried her husband enough for him to come and see her and when he confronts her she has no strength to lie. Frankly, she has no desire to lie, not even when he yells and shakes her. She feels no guilt, not even worry for the unborn child that her husband is bound to hate, just sorrow that Athelstan is not there, emptiness and a faint sting of guilt for the pain she has caused him. He leaves her crying in front of the cross.

Her father-in-law arrives an hour later. It is the first time since Athelstan left that he has come to visit her and does not even knock before he storms into her room, making sure to close the door behind him. She has managed to stop the tears and have no desire to see him.

“I have sent my son on a mission along with some lords. He should be back tomorrow” his eyes do not meet hers, but scans her body as if he was about to devour her whole.

She looks at him in disbelief. Does he honestly expect her to welcome him into her bed because Aethelwulf will be gone over the night? She shakes her head and sits down.

“Not now, father-in-law” but he won’t leave her and impatience is added to his tone.

“Yes, now, we need to talk now. I know he knows, Judith, my question is how. Who told him?” he knew from the moment Aethelwulf told him he was banging his head on the confession booth for no reason. There are only two sorts of things Aethelwulf will not tell him immediately, and even then it has to be something extreme, things that embarrass him and things that he thinks he should handle on his own. This Ecbert expected Aethelwulf feels is a mixture of both.

“I did” she mumbles quietly and he makes the same annoyed face Aethelwulf did when she first mumbled that she was with child. “I did” she repeats louder and clearer “I told him I am with child”

It takes Ecbert a second longer than it should to realize how Aethelwulf could tell from that information alone that Judith has had an affair. His eyes narrow, the cold rage is just below the surface “You led me to believe that if you were to be with child Aethelwulf would not lack reasons to believe that he would be the father”

“I lied” she admits “by omission” she prepares for his anger, for him to tell her what her punishment will be. The King has only ever had one child, so the child she is carrying is most definitely Athelstan’s, a monk’s, a Northman’s with no ties to his lineage. What is he to do with such a child? What is Wessex to do with such a child?

“Then this child is Athelstan’s” the realization and reverence in his voice make her recoil worse than when her husband yelled at her. She looks up and he is already with her and his hands soon on her body. Then he cups her face, kisses her brow and mumbles “Blessed are you among women”

She pushes him away “Is that all you have to say?” he smiles at her anger and there is a glow in his eyes that she hasn’t seen since last time he was told that she was pregnant. 

“It might not be the spare Wessex has waited for” he tells her softly “But I would be lying if I said that these news did not make me very happy”

She looks at him in disbelief. How can he act so calmly? Surely he understands how grave the situation is, his strange reaction incites hers and she comes to life from her apathy. “Aethelwulf will kill me, me and this child, before it’s even born.”

If it weren’t for the fact that she is carrying Athelstan’s child, Ecbert would have struck her for such talk. Not so much for saying that Aethelwulf would want her dead for what she has done, but that she says it as though his son could do something like that without his permission. Her life is not in the hands of her husband, but in the hands of her King.

“That did not happen immediately so it will not happen at all. No doubt, this will have grave consequences, but not as grave as that. I will handle Aethelwulf and I take care of all of it. Don’t worry, Judith, I will keep this child safe”

He lets a hand go over her still flat stomach and then turns to leave, but now she has had enough and she yells after him “I am just a vessel for children to you, whether it is your son’s or your lover’s. At least they care about me, they love me”

She finds it far too easy to imagine how he will take Athelstan’s child away from her in the disguise of showing the world his infinite benevolence when taking on his daughter-in-law’s bastard. Her payment for her time with Athelstan. Aethelwulf might make her shake when he yells, but she has never believed anything other than that he has wished her well and meant to love her and take care of her to his best ability. And Athelstan, Athelstan who she is convinced will one day return to her, these men are good men, so how she has also fallen for someone as selfish and arrogant as this King is beyond her.

He freezes at her words and the cool anger comes back into his voice. “Athelstan left us to go with the Northmen, you were obviously not enough reason for him to stay. Aethelwulf has just discovered that you have betrayed him with another man. In your situation I would not be so sure whether they cared and loved”

He then turns and his face shows surprisingly little restrain. It’s partly because they are alone and he is genuinely mad at her, but he is also practicing for his speech tomorrow. “Besides, I find great offence in the suggestion that I would not love and care for you”

“I have betrayed your son and took Athelstan from you” they are as good reasons as any 

“Borrowed” he corrects her, Athelstan was never hers to keep. He just let her borrow him while he had to focus on Lagertha. “As for your betrayal, I guess I could have done more to stop it” She scoffs at his words, but he continues. “Listen to me, Judith. Aethelwulf might be my son, but you are my daughter-in-law, the mother of my grandchild, princess of Wessex, I would never let any harm come to you”

She knows he tries to make her see herself as a princess of Wessex and not Northumbria, afraid she will turn to her father. If her father heard of this, she is not sure what he’d do, but she is sure nothing good would come out of him knowing, not for the Wessex, not for her child and she is not convinced her father would come to her support. After all, King Ecbert is not the only one who wants grandchildren who can claim more than just one kingdom in England.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't wait for the next episode


	5. Deceit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My version of what happened to Ecbert and Judith in "Born Again"

Her second pregnancy is lighter than her first one. Still she is even more confined to her chambers and left on her own. At first she doesn’t mind, thinking it’s a way to prepare the court for the new prince or princess and she spends the time to herself thinking of Athelstan, remembering their time together and cherishing their love, but also forcing herself to get used to the idea that he might never return. Her husband doesn’t come to visit her, nothing strange in that, nor does the King, equally not strange though a bit disappointing. 

She is not allowed to see her son, and thinking he is safe with his father, she decides she can wait until Aethelwulf has calmed down. But he doesn’t and as the pregnancy progresses she is still not allowed to see her son. The bigger she grows the fewer people she sees and the more anxious she becomes.

When she is being dragged out to the courtyard she tells herself this is just a bad dream, can only be a horrible nightmare and she is going to wake up at any moment. The King wouldn’t do this to her, the man who claims to love her, a man she has trusted, but in the end she has realize that not only has he allowed it, he is the one who has ordered it.

When her executioner, for that is just what he is, approaches her with the knife, she looks to her husband and her lover and they are both staring at her with the hatred and distain clear in their eyes. She cries for mercy and when the knife is touching her skin and the King asks her to name the father of her child she screams Athelstan’s name from the top of her lungs. The blade stops without as much as a scratch.

Once she has screamed the name the dream continues, only it is less of a nightmare and more of a hallucination. Is the King really comparing her to Virgin Mary? Does he really say that she is supposed to be celebrated rather than punished for her infidelity? When they release her, she doesn’t know what’s real and what’s not, if she’s dreaming, awake or dead and she is shaking so hard they have to carry her back to her room. 

When he comes to her afterwards she quickly orders the servants to leave her alone with the King. Once everyone else is gone she walks up to him and slaps him hard.

“How dare you?!” she screams and tries to hit him again, though she only hits the arms he raises to protect himself.

“You should have given him reason to believe the child was his. He went to the Bishop and they were both adamant that you would be punished. You were the one who decided to tell him you were having another man’s child, what was I supposed to do?” he looks almost desperate and finally gets hold of her wrists to make her stop hitting him. “Of course I would never let them actually harm you”

After a while she calms down. She must admit that when they dragged her to the scaffold a part of her was convinced that the King had decided he had no further use of her now when she had given birth to Athelstan’s child. That he didn’t let them harm her, that he still cares for her, is such a relief she wants to cry. To hide her weakness she turns from him and then goes to sit on her bed.

“I hate you!” she hisses turning her back to him “I thought I would die up there. You could have told me”

“I am sorry” he begs her forgiveness because that is easier than if he would admit that he contemplated telling her only to reach the conclusion that she is not good enough of an actress. “Really, I am truly sorry, but don’t you see? Now you can have all you want, both your sons, the church’s blessing, and Aethelwulf will come around. My dear Judith, I have promised you that you will be queen one day, this was the only way . . .”

“Aethelwulf will not forgive me. You have not seen the way he looks at me, he . . . He hates me, me and the child . . . Why Alfred?” at the time she was just grateful that she would live, but now she has had time to think about it and realized the King took the opportunity to decide the name without even consulting her. He smiles, walks over to her and sits down next to her on the bed.

“Because I hope he will grow up to be good and wise and be a good council to his brother. Do not fret over Aethelwulf, he just needs some time. I dare say that letting him back into your bed would probably help matters, once he is ready”

She wonders if it is his guilt that makes him so eager to have her sleeping with his son again, or the wish for another grandchild. Father and son, maybe she deserves to lose her nose and ears, and in that case the King, whose hand is slowly making it’s way up her arm and over her neck, is probably also deserving of losing some body parts.

“I want to hear that you have forgiven me” it sounds like an order, but the voice is not strong enough. He brushes away her hair and places a kiss on the ear he threatened to cut off.

She looks at him in disbelief. He made her believe she was going to be tortured, made her feel so utterly vulnerable and abandon, made her fear for her life. She needs more than a few hours to forgive him, but right now she doesn’t want to feel alone and she turns to kiss him.

It will take time before her body has recovered, and she makes a promise to herself not to let him back into her bed until she feels she has forgiven him, even if that would mean to never sleep with him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this might is a bit out of character, but I couldn’t write a relationship between two characters where one has physically tortured the other person. I mean, come on, he cut her ear off. I wrote another fic “Afterwards” http://archiveofourown.org/works/3702993, which can be read as a continuation of this series, but that I tried to keep more canon.


	6. Forgiveness

Time goes by and Aethelwulf has not forgiven her. Ecbert keeps telling her to give it time, but she doubts Aethelwulf will ever again look at her the way he did before the Northmen returned.

Her two small boys take up most of her time and she tries to make sure that they spend as much time with their father and grandfather as possible. Even though the whole court and probably most of Wessex know that Alfred is not Aethelwulf’s son, she has decided to raise him to see the future king of Wessex as his father. Aethelwulf is yet to accept the boy, but spends much time with his son, frowning each time the King pays Alfred any attention.

When not with her boys she tries to keep an eye on the King. It is clear that though political schemes keep his mind busy and his family keeps growing, losing Athelstan has caused his heart and soul to wither. That she is yet to forgive him for what he put her through after Alfred’s birth does not help matters and his mind only seems to grow darker and darker. It pains her, even though she feels he deserves it, so when he sends his son to negotiate with Queen Kwenthrith, she takes the opportunity to talk to him.

“My lord” she calls softly to where he sits behind his big desk. He looks so tired and brooding, as if nothing in life gives him any joy anymore.

“Not now, Judith” he answers without even looking up from the document. She ignores his answer and walks over to him, placing her hands on his hunched shoulders.

“Are you worried for you son, my lord?”

“Aethelwulf will be fine” he mutters, as though he hasn’t sent his son to a lunatic princess who has already killed six high nobles. Then he looks up at her with eyes so dead they ought to belong to a ghost. “Or that princess will be torn to pieces so slowly she will beg for death before it is finally granted.”

She gives him a sympathetic smile and finally he smiles back, it is weak, but at least it is a smile and she counts it as a success.

“Are you worried?” he finally asks her, his voice a tint more alive and he leans back in his chair “I am sorry I had to send him away, but there was no one else. She didn’t hesitate to kill our nobles, but you’ll see she knows better than to kill a prince and a bishop.”

She places a kiss on his cheek “We will pray for his quick and safe return” before she knows it he has grabbed hold of her wrist and dragged her down in his lap.

“Not too quick” he mumbles and presses his lips to hers, but she places her hands on his chest to push him off.

“I have not forgiven you” she warns, but he only pulls her tighter to him.

“How long will that take?” his voice is teasing, almost playful, but his grip is strong when she tries to regain her arm.

“I don’t know” she answers sternly.

“How long do you think it would take for my son to forgive you if I were to tell him that you have betrayed him a second time” despite the threat he asks her with the same tone he would pose an old riddle.

“You wouldn’t” she tells him more confidently than she feels. She doubts he would to that to his own son, or to himself. To her disappointment she does not think he wouldn’t do it to spare her. 

“So don’t shut me out” his voice screams of entitlement. He is not a pleading lover, but a demanding king and expects her to bow for his wishes. The attitude angers her as well as scares her and she decides to plea to this mighty ruler.

“Don’t try to force out of me what I have given to you freely” that makes him stop and he lifts a hand to caress her cheek and lets his finger travel her jaw and over her lip.

“I would hate to learn that I have lost you too. I fear one day I will” from someone else it might have sound humble, but the tone he uses suggest that if it were to happen, the fate would be far worse for her than it would be for him “I have already lost him.”

There is not doubt who ‘him’ is, and she pulls her arms around his neck and hugs him tightly. “One day he will return to us.”

-

Aethelwulf holds the small child in his arms, rocking it gently and smiles when the boy makes content gurgling sounds. There is something beyond blood and family when holding an infant child in your arms, a natural will to protect and nourish. He is so focused on the boy he doesn’t hear the door open.

“Aethelwulf” she keeps her voice calm, allows the questioning tone with just the slightest hint of worry “What are you doing in here?”

He turns to see the woman that is the reason for his anger. Judith, his supposed wife, the woman who betrayed him without the slightest hint of remorse, who his father has forgiven and now expects him to take back, or does he? As Alfred’s mother, Judith has become something of Wessex’s very own Holy Virgin, her honour so carefully protected as if the slightest crack, slightest caress even from her husband, could taint it. Though she is a harlot who has whored herself to an apostate she is being treated as a nun who has given herself to God. 

Her eyes are focused on Alfred and he can tell she is scared, worried that he will do something to the child. He makes a wry smile at the fact that she can leave the child to his father’s arms whenever he wishes, the man who threatened to cut her ear off, but not to him, not to her husband. 

“I wanted to ask him for forgiveness, for what I called his mother in his presence before I left. Father was right. It was very badly done. I will learn to control my anger better in future.”

“I am sure he forgives you” she answers and takes a step towards them and then smiles “Look how at peace he is” The child is looking up at his father with his big eyes and a content sleepy expression.

“I hope you do not blame him for his mother’s crimes” her voice is low and humble, but she sees how Aethelwulf’s eyes harden at her words. When the child stirs he gently puts the now almost sleeping child back into his crib.

“Why would I? He is the most innocent party in all this. For what crime would I forgive him? Being born?” his mocking tone makes her look away and he stares at her in disbelief, wondering if she really believes that he would blame a poor child just for being born? He walks over to her and she remains still. “I hope to one day be able to forgive you, Judith. I pray to God for the strength to forgive all those who have trespassed against me, but with you I find it incredibly hard.”

“I know” what else can she say? She is all too aware of that he has not forgiven her yet.

“What pains me the most is that I have always tried to be a good husband to you, to treat you well, what did I do to deserve your betrayal?”

As he towers over her, she doesn’t look at him, but at the crib “Nothing, it had nothing to do with you. I was weak, my heart was weak.”

“And me, your husband, our son, our marriage, your promise to God, all that meant nothing? I know you, Judith. It is true the last year you have been a mystery to me, but before that I knew you. You used to be a good Christian woman and I know it must have taken incredible strength for you to ignore all of that.”

Tears are coming into her eyes, but she cannot contradict his words. What made her act the way she did was not her weakness but the strength she found in her love to Athelstan, such love as she had never felt before. What does he want to hear? That she was strong enough to betray him, or that Athelstan was strong enough to persuade her? She knows then that he can never hear that she has laid with the King as well.

“While I do not know if it means anything anymore, I am still your husband. A part of me thinks that you should return to me, though I do not know if that is what I want. A man ought to want to kiss his wife, but how can I when every time I look at you I feel so angry.”

He has not raised his voice, but it has increased in strength and almost automatically she puts a hand to his arm to warn him not to wake the now sleeping Alfred. Immediately he grabs hold of her wrist and draws her close, but then stops himself. He glances at the crib and then leads her out of there to her bedroom, which has now been moved to be closer to her sons. 

When they are there she sits down on her bed, waiting for him to continue. In a way she is glad he his talking to her, directly to her, instead of just calling names at her. Though now his talking is close to yelling, as there is no child whose sleep can be disturbed here.

“You still wish him to come back, so does father, while you have no problems seeing me going away to meet a lunatic princess, risking my life, perhaps never come back.”

“That is not true. We were worried sick, praying for your safe return. We know that he will never return to us” she shakes her head and looks up at him with pleading eyes “Don’t ever think we did not want you to come back. Every day we . . .”

Aethelwulf stares at her in annoyed confusion “Why do you keep saying ‘we’? Since when do you and Father . . .?” then a light is lit in his eyes and he throws himself at her, making her yelp as she come down on her back on the bed with his arms on each side of her and his face inches from hers. “Tell me you have not betrayed me with my father!”

In his head it makes perfect sense. Athelstan is something his father wanted endlessly, made everything in his power to keep and still lost. Alfred has been a way for his father to indulge in that loss, feeling it and soothing it at the same time, and though this is a logical next step he has never dared to think it through. Judith doesn’t have a chance to answer before the King himself appears at the door.

“What is going on here? Son?”

Judith looks over her husband’s shoulder at her father-in-law who is holding her eldest son in his arms. Behind him is one of the nurses holding her youngest. Aethelwulf freezes, but then slowly moves away from her, rises from the bed and meets his father’s gaze. Ecbert walks over to place the child he’s holding on the bed next to Judith who immediately puts an arm around him. Then he turns to the nurse, takes Alfred and orders her to leave. When Alfred has been placed in his mother’s arms and the door has been shut, the King turns to his son.

“Explain” he orders and Aethelwulf looks at him as an animal you have teased to the breaking point.

“Has something been going on here while I was away? Have my wife found another man appointed by God who one cannot blame her for being attracted to?” his voice is a mix of mocking, anger and fear.

His father doesn’t slap him, doesn’t even look angry, but walks up close and places his hands on his shoulders.

“I have been looking after my daughter-in-law, the mother of my grandchildren, your wife, who you these days seem to not be able to address without insulting”

“Have you laid with her?” it takes all his strength to ask, but if that is the case, then he wants to know.

“Of course not” Ecbert answers with the same sympathetic tone one uses when a small child utters the impossibility that nightmares might be real and he embraces his son “The debauched court is the one you have left. Now you are back here in Wessex, with your family, your father, your wife, your sons” at the last word Aethelwulf tenses and his father embraces him harder and places a hand on his neck as he whispers into his ear “You must come to terms with it, you must accept him.”

“I wish to” he mumbles, feeling safe enough to acknowledge his weakness in his father’s embrace.

“Then do it, accept him” His father urges, but he still hesitates, because he knows they are not only talking about the little innocent child in Judith’s arms. They are talking about Athelstan, how he must accept him as part of this unorthodox constellation and if the man, God forbid, would ever return to Wessex, Aethelwulf cannot do anything to avenge the injustice made against him. 

His father leads him over to the bed and his little boy reaches for him with chubby arms. Quickly he has embraced him and he holds him tight in his loving arms and kisses his hair.

“My darling little boy” he mumbles. His child means more to him than anything in the world.

“That is good” he hears his father say and he looks up “and now, his brother, your other son.”

There is more room in Aethelwulf’s arms than in Judith’s and he is able to hold both boys in his arms at once. The two little princes of Wessex, such fine young boys, surely he has love enough for both of them, as his wife has, as his father has? No, even more. He hopes he never has and never will give his eldest son any reason to doubt his love, but now he turns to Alfred and silently makes him a promise. Despite that his father the King and the boy’s mother will look at him as a memory of the man they have lost, he will love him only for his own sake and forever see him as Prince Alfred of Wessex, son of Prince Aethelwulf of Wessex, and if it one day would come to that, the future King. 

As he looks at his boys, he misses the glances his father and wife send each other, misses how his wife mouths the words “I forgive you” and his father’s answer “I love you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Don't know if anyone else ships it, don't really know if I ship it, I just really like their interactions and dialogues


End file.
